


Un-dressed

by Rosie_Rues



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-17
Updated: 2005-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosie_Rues/pseuds/Rosie_Rues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Summery' or 'summeries' it's based on: 183 - ·  My (and a friend's) take on frizzy's Veela!DracoMate!Harry concept. Only with Snape in a blue dress with pale lace due to his rather eccentric Aunt Sylvia. Gives the story a whole new flavor, I think. For the <span><a href="http://perposterice.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://perposterice.livejournal.com/"><b>perposterice</b></a></span> fest.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Un-dressed

Remus Lupin had finished his marking. He looked down at the low pile of essays and sighed. There were so few students this year, even now Voldemort had fallen. Too many of them were gone, dead or fled to warmer climes. There was a school on a beach somewhere, far away. Tonks sent him postcards sometimes, grains of sand stuck to the ink, bright-hued waves rolling against paper beaches. He missed her, in a faint, wistful way, but he could not have gone. He belonged here.

He shook himself, irritated. “Maudlin old fool,” he muttered.

“Preposterous!” one of the staffroom portraits bellowed.

“That, too,” Remus said and went to stash his marked essays in his desk.

Behind him the staffroom door slammed open and quick steps stormed across the room.

“Afternoon, Severus,” Remus said, resigned to an unpleasant half-hour. Telling Severus that he admired his courage in returning to teach had been a mistake, even if he could blame the Firewhiskey. Adding that at least he didn’t have to worry about the stress of being deputy headmistress like Pomona did had been unfortunate, at least. Making a pass at him after that had been nothing but stupid.

The footsteps stopped and after a moment a grudging voice said, “It would be you in here, wouldn’t it, Lupin?”

Remus’ mood lifted. He had begun to think of riling Severus as one of the pleasures of his old age and there was obviously something up. He turned around.

“Why, Severus, how nice to – bloody hell.”

Severus folded his arms and glared. Remus thought it was typical of the man. No one else he knew would be able to loom successfully whilst dressed in a floor-length, duck-egg blue lace dress. With ruffles.

“Feeling pretty, Severus?” Remus said, trying not to leer or laugh. There were blue stilettos under there. Blue stilettos with silk flowers on the toes and was that really a tiara perched atop his head?

With a snarl, Severus flung open the cupboard and began to search through shelves.

“What are you looking for?” Remus asked, creeping closer.

“Mind your own business. Don’t you have work to do?”

“Finished my marking. What happened? Do you need me to speak to any Gryffindors?”

Another snarl. “Cloak? Where’s the staff Cloak?”

“Top shelf. Minerva moved it after the incident with Filius and the toffee vodka at the last party.” He reached for an old, rather rusty skill and produced his most coaxing voice. “Severus.”

“Potter!”

“Harry!” He was shocked. All the mischief had gone out of Harry after Ron and Ginny died. He had come back to Hogwarts for his last year but in all the ways that mattered he was as lost as all the others.

“And Malfoy,” Severus added bitterly.

“Harry and Draco teamed up to force you to wear women’s clothing?”

“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous, Lupin. Hah.” He dragged the Invisibility Cloak off the shelf and swirled it around him. Remus, who had a lot of practice at this, grabbed his wrist just before it vanished.

Severus went rigid. Remus just had time to think, _too thin_ and _warm_ before an icy voice purred, “Release me, Lupin.”

But Remus remembered the thirteen year old who had laughed when he brewed his first Shrinking Solution. He just didn’t find Severus intimidating. “Certainly not,” he said mildly. “I’m not letting you run off after starting a story like that. Or do you want me to start asking around the students?”

There was a silence and the arm beneath his hand remained stiff. Remus smiled. There was a quality to Severus’ silences which he could not help appreciate.

“Very well. Accompany me to my rooms. I am not prepared to discuss this ludicrous situation in the corridors.”

Remus nodded and released his grip a little. They jammed briefly in the staffroom door but he quickly remembered how to do this. He’d smuggled James into enough prefects’ meetings in his time.

“What are you smirking about, Lupin?”

Of course, James had never purred threateningly into his ear.

“I was remembering the day James set Narcissa Black’s robes on fire,” he said, trying to will his pounding heart to stop. It wasn’t until the words were out that he recalled that Severus had been friendly with Narcissa.

“So it was Potter?” Severus mused. “We assumed it was Black. It seemed like the right combination of childishness and wilful destruction.”

“She’d upset Lily.”

“Ah, the courting rituals of the Gryffindor young. I’m astounded you ever successfully procreate.”

“I don’t know what you’ve got to boast about,” Remus grumbled. “Unless there was any truth in those old rumours about the Slytherin Quidditch team?”

“A gentleman never tells,” Severus said loftily. His arm shifted and Remus felt the cloak brush against his cheek as he lowered his voice. “Although you may draw your own conclusions if you recall who was captain at the time.”

At school, he had always thought that Bellatrix Black on a broomstick was the most terrifying thing he’d ever see outside of a full moon. “Quells the ardour, doesn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know,” that voice murmured. “I don’t have Quidditch fantasies.”

“I do.”

Severus jerked away and Remus smirked sideways at him as he was marched down into the dungeons. “You seem very eager, Severus. Is there something I should know?”

Another jump and then, in a cold voice, “This is extremely uncomfortable. Lace chafes.”

“That’s why I prefer silk,” said Remus, who was really enjoying himself now. “Red silk, if you were wondering what to get me for Christmas.”

“Lupin! We are in the corridor. The students-”

“Are all in lessons. What did you do with your class, anyway?”

“The Bloody Baron was kind enough to agree to supervise.”

It was amazing, Remus mused, how one could hear a smirk. Ah, here they were at last.

The door slammed as soon as they were in the office and Severus stalked away, shedding the Cloak as he went. Remus gathered it up and followed him, wondering what he would see. He’d never been past the office.

There was a delicate crash which he guessed was the tiara hitting the wall. Grinning, he followed Severus into the next room.

 _Books._ The room was full of books. Every wall was full, every surface heaped. They were even stacked on the floor and in the corners of the bed. He couldn’t quite hold back a moan of envy as he turned around. Books.

“If you could refrain from molesting my library, Lupin, I would appreciate some assistance.”

Severus had twisted round in an attempt to reach the laces at the back of his dress. He obviously couldn’t reach and now he was glaring over his shoulder at Remus. His hips were twisted and Remus could see how the lace draped and fell to pool at the floor. He crossed over, slightly dazed, and picked up the ends of the ribbons so he could study the knot, brushing the back of Severus’ neck.

Severus stiffened. “If you garrotte me I shall haunt you.”

“It would be worth it to steal your library,” Remus said and was pleasantly surprised that his voice was steady. “So, Harry and Draco?”

“Undo me.”

“Really, Severus, control yourself,” Remus murmured, just to make him twitch again. “Tell me the story first.”

“I suppose you think you’re amusing, Lupin.”

“Harry and Draco?”

“Fenella Thistlethwaite,” Severus snapped.

“Frizzy?” Lupin asked in bewilderment, envisaging his least favourite Hufflepuff. “The silly little twit isn’t capable of something this complex.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “How uncharacteristically uncharitable, Lupin. I agree. The problem lies with Miss Thistlethwaite’s choice of literature.”

“Oh?”

“There is a bookshelf to your left which may enlighten you.”

There were two ways to reach that shelf. He could step sideways and then forwards or he could press himself against Severus’ back and reach over his shoulder. The very fact that he was tempted made him step back. Flirting with Severus was a harmless amusement but they would both regret it if he took it any further.

He studied the row of books in surprise before pulling one off. “The Duke’s Delight by Sylvia Prince, Witch Weekly’s Author of the Century.” On the cover a scantily clad girl was swooning into the arms of a half-naked and over-muscled man. At the sight of Remus the girl squealed and hid behind the man.

Remus chuckled. “Why, Severus, you have hidden depths.”

“The bloody things are cursed. They start reciting their more lurid passages every time they leave this room.”

“Dare I ask?”

“I had a slight disagreement with my Aunt Sylvia.”

“Oh.” Remus felt mildly enlightened. “And what, precisely, does that have to do with Frizzy Thistlethwaite and your current attire?”

Severus crossed his arms, pulling the blue lace tight across his shoulders. “Undo me.”

“Story first.”

“Hah.” He thought for a moment and then said, “Very well. I’m sure you can imagine the quality of that woman’s literary endeavours?”

“Shall I read some to be sure?”

“No! As I was saying, she suffered under the illusion that she was taking her characters from life.”

 _Blood from a stone_ , Remus thought and said, “Yes?”

“Undo me.”

“You haven’t told me the story yet.”

A huff. “Really, Lupin, can you not draw your own conclusions?”

“Not on that little evidence.” All the same he undid the knot and then held the end of the laces tightly. “Keep talking.”

“Third book from the left.”

Damn. He couldn’t let go of the laces now – he’d never hear the end of the story if Severus got out of the dress. On the other hand, it would mean that Severus would be next to naked. Next to naked, in his bedroom, with no one else –

Remus couldn’t help it. He glanced around to make sure there were no signs of Sirius Black hiding beneath an invisibility cloak. Then he remembered that James and Sirius, wherever they were, not only probably had better ways of spying now but were more likely to be watching over Harry.

“Why the sigh, Lupin?”

He couldn’t find words to say it all. Instead he merely leant against Severus’ neck and said, “I’m old.”

“Self-pitying nonsense.”

“Hypocrite.”

“Consistency is for Gryffindors. Lupin, are you intending to release me today?”

“You could just tell me the story straight. No? Fine.” He had solved his problem. Was he not a wizard, after all? “ _Accio_ book!” It arrived in his hand, heavy with dust. It had obviously never been opened. Remus turned it over to read the title. “ _The Potion Master’s Passion_.” He opened it to read the blurb on the fly-leaf. “‘Orphaned and abandoned in a cruel Muggle workhouse, pureblood heiress Sublimata Fitz-Black flees in search of her true heritage. Instead she finds passionate release in the arms of the mysterious Potions Master, a man haunted by the mistakes of his past.’ Oh, dear. How unfortunate.”

“ _Unfortunate!_ ” Severus spluttered, waving his arms. “Preposterous! Ludicrous! Infantile, sentimental tripe! Illiterate!”

“Not at five-hundred and thirty two pages,” Remus said, flicking through in an attempt to hide amusement. “Good gracious, Miss Fitz-Black is quite a creative young lady. I never thought of doing _that_ with a jobberknoll feather.”

“That disgrace to the name of literature!”

There was a rush of air and tatters of blue lace swirled around his face. Then there was a sound of tinkling bells and the air stilled.

“Oh, fuck,” Severus said in a sincere, quiet voice.

He was now dressed in yellow satin. Cap sleeves were bunched with little blue bows and his hair was covered by a fine yellow veil.

“I take it you informed your aunt of your opinion of her work?” Remus asked.

“That blasted woman has a quite unreasonable ability to hold a grudge,” Severus snarled.

Remus gave up his pretence and roared with laughter, wrapping his arms around Severus’ waist to keep his balance. “Have you heard the one about the pot and the kettle, Severus?” he managed.

“Oh, do shut up, Lupin. And stop mauling me.”

“I’m not mauling you. I’m leaning on you.”

“Lupin, you are aware that normal people don’t use pedantry as a rhetorical weapon?”

“I can’t imagine what you mean, Severus.”

Severus snorted and peeled Remus’ hands away from his hips. “Undress me.”

Remus reached eagerly for the blue sash which held this dress closed before he remembered. “I gather your aunt cursed you but why dresses? And what does this have to do with Harry and Draco?”

“Aunt Sylvia was under the impression that I did not adequately appreciate the suffering of femalekind.”

Remus was thinking hard. He could try to court Severus’ friendship by being obliging and stripping him as soon as possible. Of course, it was entirely possible that Severus would not regard this as a friendly favour and refuse to speak to him again. In which case all he would gain was the sight of him semi-naked and a certain amount of interesting fantasy material. Alternatively, he could drag this out, have the entertainment of aggravating Severus _and_ the nakedness. Grinning, he backed away until the bed hit the back of his knees and he found himself sitting down.

“Lupin! Get back here.”

If it hadn’t been for the tone of voice, Remus reflected, he could have got _quite_ the wrong idea.

“I want the rest of the story first,” he said cheerfully. “Oh, and Severus?”

“What?”

“Twirl.”

The look he got was murderous. He smiled back and made a turning gesture.

“No.”

“Fine. I’ll just sit here and watch you undo those hooks yourself.”

“You agreed to help me, Lupin.”

“That’s a somewhat disputable statement in itself, Severus. In any case, that was for the blue dress. You may not have noticed but you’re wearing yellow now.”

Severus turned, rather stiffly. It wasn’t much a twirl, Remus thought contently, but it would do. There was the appropriate amount of skirt-rustling and weren’t the blue daisies embroidered on the bodice just perfect?

“I would have thought this sight was ridiculous enough to satisfy you, Lupin.”

“My name is Remus,” he said absently. “Don’t confuse me with Sirius.” And in truth he was sure by now that if they could still see they were watching this. He could just imagine the tears of laughter sliding down James’ face. Lily was probably scolding them. He wondered if Peter was with them, poor Peter who’d proved brave at the end, after all.

“Stop moping.”

“I am not moping,” he snapped.

“Sulking, then.”

“I don’t sulk, either.”

“You?” Severus demanded, pacing forward. “You’ve always sulked. You were infamous for it.”

“I was not!” When he had lost control of this situation?

“Long-faced Lupin, the Grump of Gryffindor?”

“ _What?_ ”

Severus smirked.

“You’re making it up,” Remus said, scrabbling for his dignity. Why was he feeling outmanoeuvred by a man with yellow rosebuds in his hair?

“Why would I? Of course, the fact that you have been brooding all term does nothing to disprove that.”

“I’m not brooding. I’m reserved.”

A raised eyebrow and Severus said, purring again, “Well, if I could distract you from your self-pity for a moment, _Remus_ , I require your assistance.”

“Story,” Remus said and winced as it came out petulant rather than stern.

Severus rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed beside him. The bed settled beneath them, throwing Remus off balance. He flung his hand out and it landed on Severus’ thigh. Severus sighed and said, “Really, Lupin. Is it not bad enough that these shoes pinch?”

He didn’t move the hand, though, and Remus was feeling stubborn enough not to take a hint. He let his fingers curl slightly and said, “Harry, Draco and Frizzy?”

“Are you aware of the ridiculous rumour that is going around the school about Potter and Malfoy being involved in some sort of romance?”

“You mean the way they’re shagging in every empty broom cupboard they can find?” Remus asked cheerfully. “Everyone knows that?”

“It’s not true?” Severus asked, wincing.

“Didn’t you know?”

“Shit. I shall have to write to his mother.”

“Lie to her,” Remus suggested.

“She’ll find out,” Severus said gloomily. “Narcissa always finds out.”

“She can’t blame you,” Remus said comfortingly. “All he’s doing is being healthily adolescent and dealing with some residual stress.”

“I don’t mind _that_. She’ll expect me to give him the talk. I’ve been trying to avoid that for years.”

Remus thought about Draco Malfoy for a moment. “I think Draco probably knows more than either of us on that subject. He’s of age.”

“That won’t stop Narcissa.”

“I had to explain to Harry.”

“Please tell me that was excruciating as I hope.”

“Horrible. Utterly horrible. Then at the end he turns round and says, ‘Thank you, Professor. It was very kind of you but Hermione already got a book out of the library.’”

Severus snickered and Remus nudged him with his shoulder. He’d begun to forget how nice it was to talk to someone. “Come on. How did teenage hormones end up with you in a dress?”

“Miss Thistlethwaite,” Severus began, “is under the impression that Draco is part-Veela – and I am certainly not mentioning _that_ in my letter to Narcissa Malfoy – and that Harry is his mate.”

Remus felt laughter bubble up with him. “You’re not serious?”

“She is also under the impression that this is _romantic_. Furthermore, she had the effrontery to discuss it in my class.”

“How many nights of detention is the poor child suffering?”

“Poor child? Please, Lupin. Only one.”

“ _Remus._ You’re softening in your old age. And? I’m beginning to guess but do go on.”

“The abominable child dared to speak back to me. And neither of us are old, Remus.”

“I feel it,” Remus said, though the laughter seemed to have washed away some of his grey mood. “What did she say?”

“I believe her exact words were ‘But, Professor, it’s just like something Sylvia Prince would write.’”

“At which point you, driven to rage by her sheer inanity, lost your temper?”

“Quite.”

Remus gave up and collapsed with laughter. He wished he’d been there. He was dimly aware that Severus was propping him up but he didn’t become aware of it until a soft voice murmured in his ear, “If you’re finished, Remus? You still need to strip me.”

If he hadn’t known about Severus’ obviously genetic ability to hold a grudge he could definitely have misinterpreted _that_. He untangled himself and said, “Oh, very well. You’d better get rid of the shoes first.”

“I’m considerably ahead of you,” Severus said and lifted a foot for Remus’ inspection. He had very long toes. Remus had had a thing about toes ever since he was fourteen and had painted Sirius’ toenails pink in the middle of the night (Peter had done James’ a particularly delicate shade of lilac).

“You’re moping again.”

“I am not.” He dragged his attention away. “Sit still. I’m going to get this thing out of your hair first.”

Severus’ hair was softer than it looked, fine and limp. He had to work each rosebud out in turn, careful not to pull. Even though he tried to be gentle, Severus hissed a couple of times and Remus squeezed his thigh in apology. When he finally got the blasted thing free he tossed it across the room and watched in satisfaction as Severus’ hair fell around his face again. Much better.

“Stand up. I need to get behind you.”

“You have a low mind, Lupin.”

“I didn’t mean-”

But Severus rose from the bed, the folds of satin resettling around his hips and Remus knew he really shouldn’t be staring…

“No need to hurry, Lupin. I’m sure neither of us have anything better to do with our time.”

“I haven’t,” Remus said. “My marking is done and my lessons are planned.”

“No more teaching today?”

“No.” He worked away at the enormous bow in the sash until, to his satisfaction, it sprung free. He wound it up neatly and then realised there was nowhere to put it but the floor. Every other surface was covered in books.

“At least I’m not distracting you from anything important.”

There was that word again. _Distracting?_ He began to undo the row of hooks that ran right down the back of the dress and then paused. _No. He wouldn’t- No._

“Distract me from my self-pity? Severus Snape, are you implying this is all a distraction?”

“Certainly not,” Severus huffed. “You over-estimate my concern. Do you really think I’d willingly humiliate myself before a class of Hufflepuffs?”

“No,” Remus said, “but I wouldn’t be in the least surprised if you manipulated an existing situation to your own advantage. It also occurs to me that you could easily have thrown me off in the corridor. Or thrown me out as soon as we got here. And now I think of it, actually, there at least ten spells which would have removed your clothing without my assistance.”

“Well done, Mr Lupin,” Severus murmured and turned round. “It took you long enough.” His hands settled on Remus’ hips and he stepped closer, pressing them both against the edge of the bed.

“Which means,” Remus said, rather breathlessly, “that all those requests to help you undress had absolutely nothing to do with your current situation.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “You still haven’t managed it.”

“I’ll have to try harder,” Remus murmured and slid his arms up and round so he could work on the hooks again. Quietly, he thought, _Padfoot, Prongs, if you’re still watching, this would be a very good time to check on Harry. Providing he and Draco haven’t crept out of Charms again, that is._

But it was time to concentrate on something far more urgent. He slid his hands down Severus’ back, taking the time to feel now. The satin was stiff and cold and the contrast of warm, smooth skin was just right.

Severus’ hands tightened on his hips and he pressed closer, close enough that Remus could tell, even through the skirts, that he was just as eager as he was. He began to work more rapidly, tugging at those damned tiny hooks even as he leant forward. Once his mouth met Severus’ he lost both the patience and the focus to deal with small, fiddly fastenings and just ripped.

Severus pulled away slightly to murmur, “Impatient? How Gryffindor.”

“Devious Slytherin git,” Remus murmured back and tore the sleeves open. “Did you want to keep your pretty dress?”

Only Severus could glare when half-dressed in yellow satin. Grinning, Remus pushed it down over his hips, wrapped his arms around all that lovely warm skin and kissed him again. When Severus met his lips with a breathy sigh, he blessed that combination of chance and Slytherin scheming that meant the bed was right there. All he needed to do was fall backwards.

When he finally broke the kiss, Severus nuzzled his way up to his ear and muttered, “You’re wearing too much.”

“Only because you’re not keeping up,” Remus managed, gasping as long fingers slid under his robes.

The hand stilled. “I beg your pardon?”

Remus smiled slyly. “Undress me.”

~♣~

Some hours later, Remus lit a candle and slipped out of bed. He was sure he’d dropped it somewhere around here.

“What are you doing?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. Aha! “I thought I’d just get something to read.”

“I’m awake,” Severus muttered. “Though you obviously prefer my books.”

“I _like_ books,” Remus said, scooping it up. “But since you are awake perhaps you would appreciate a bedtime story?”

“What are you up to, Lupin?”

“Me?” He slipped back into bed and settled comfortably against the pillows. He slid one arm around Severus and used his other hand to crack open _The Potion-Master’s Passion_.

“What are you doing with that book?”

“Reading it, obviously. Let’s see. _”Oh, Septimius,” gasped Sublimata, her pert breasts quivering with emotion. “You saved me from a fate worse than death. How can I ever have doubted your noble heart?”_ ”

“Remus Lupin, put that nonsense down.”

Remus grinned and held it out of reach. “ _”Foolish child,” the Master murmured, his low voice sending thrills through her veins. “You should never have fled me.”_ ”

“Lupin. I’m warning you.”

“ _Sublimata, overwhelmed, dropped to her knees, no longer caring that her thin rags barely covered her modesty. “Oh, Septimius,” she cried. “Forgive me. I am yours. All yours. Take me.”_ \- Fast mover, isn’t she, Severus?”

“Puerile nonsense,” Severus muttered, grabbing for the book. “Drivel.”

“Oh, it’s about to get quite racy. _The Master swept her up in his tender arms, pressing her against his hard chest. She could feel the throb of his immense manhood against her precious places and half-swooned at the wicked sensations that touch aroused._ ”

“Nonsense! Disgusting, idiotic nonsense!”

“ _“Sublimata!” the Master groaned in her ear, his breath hot against her neck. “I cannot. You are too pure for such a one as I. I beg you – tempt me no more.” And he lowered her to the floor and stepped back, his eyes dark with a sorrow she could not comprehend. Then he was gone, his robes swirling in his wake._ Inconsiderate bastard. She did get you down to a T, Severus!”

“That appalling woman! How dare she sully the page with her – fuck!”

Remus tossed the book aside and pounced. “Red velvet,” he murmured, rubbing himself against the soft material. “Nice.”

“You did that on purpose, Remus.”

“Of course,” he said, sliding the heavy skirts up as Severus caught his breath sharply.

“Have you suddenly developed a taste for the sight of me in women’s clothing?”

“Not at all,” Remus said happily. “I rather think I’ve developed a taste for removing you from women’s clothing.”


End file.
